Patricia Patterson Ruins Everything
by Cherry-sama
Summary: [Satirical] It's every fan's dream to go to Hyrule, but unfortunately for one fan girl, the popular snob at her High School gets sucked in instead. And it ruins everything.
1. Chapter 1: Worst Chemistry Project Ever!

**Patricia Patterson Ruins Everything**  
By Cherry-sama

"Amor Fati" by SiberianBrakes  
Taken from deviantart, used with permission.

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**Chapter 1: Worst Chemistry Project Ever!**

A/N: And yet another LoZ fanfic out of me. This story is a little bit different than the fanfics I usually do since this is targeted at an older, maturer audience. Preferably people who have spent enough time on to notice these sorts of stories all over the site. The main reason why this story differs from my others is that two of the characters (especially the protagonist) are written to be dislikable. In other words, if you want to throw your computer across the room by the end of this chapter, you're feeling the right emotion. Continue at your own risk.

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**WARNING:**  
**This is a parody of all those annoying Mary-Sue-gets-sucked-into-LoZ-World fanfics. I am trying to make this character as dislikable as possible. ANY AND ALL JOKES MAKING FUN OF CERTAIN COUNTRIES, ETHNIC GROUPS, PEOPLE WITH DISABILITIES, ANY MINORITIES, OR STATING INCORRECT FACTS ARE INCLUDED TO MAKE FUN OF THE CHARACTER'S IGNORANCE, not said countries, ethnic groups, people with disabilities, and minorities. I believe that racism is wrong and I strongly dislike people who are racist, like this character. Basically, what I'm trying to say is HER STUPIDITY IS NOT MY OWN. If you do continue reading, and find yourself offended by any of the character's remarks, I apologize from the bottom of my heart.**

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Hey there, y'all! My name is, like, Patricia Patterson. Only the most popular girl in all of Green Lawn High! You know, I'm that girl who wears all the latest fashions, has all those hot guys that you always wanted to go out with, at her disposal, and only hangs out with the coolest people. The Queen Bee of our _Hive_ School. (Ha ha ha! Get it? I'm so funny!)

But, despite what goes on at school, my life is, like, the worst life ever! Like, seriously, when people think when a girl has rich parents, they think "oh, she's, like, _sooooo_ lucky". But you're wrong. My parents are the worst parents to ever exist in, like, forever! They never let me go partying, they never let me go drinking despite the fact that I am much more maturer than the average 16 year old, and they _actually_ want me to waste my time getting good grades in school! Honestly, how much more loserish can you get? Because of this, I always have to sneak out, making up some bull about how I'm going to my boyfriend's place to study. They're _soooo_ stupid. Like, seriously, they fall for it _every_ time.

So, anyways, as I was saying before I got all off-topic, my life really sucks. But, here's the story of how it got, like, really really weird. I'm, like, not even joking! So, I was, like, going to this really nerdy girl's house. I always, like, forget her name because her parents are Chinese, and obviously Chinese people give their kids exotic names. Like, Mao Tse Tung or Kim Jong Il. Something weird like that.

I, like, totally need to stop getting off topic! So, anyway, I went to this nerdy girl's house. Normally, I wouldn't catch myself dead with someone as unpopular as her, but my stupid Chem Teacher assigned this group project about hearts and love and stuff, and she said she'd fail me if I didn't hand in another project. Like, how totally unfair is that?

So, there I was, standing outside this girl's dorky little house (which was, like, ten times smaller than mine, I might add). I wore my, like, ripped, ultra slimming, black Canadian Beagle jeans with my, like, bright purple, semi-transparent tank top so that my black bra could be seen through it. You know, the usual.

So, while I walked up to the front door, I, like, plopped a stick of gum in my mouth. Even though I didn't plan on being there long, that, like, didn't mean that I didn't need some therapy Junk Food.

That's when I, like, rang the doorbell. I didn't hear anything right away, so I rang it some more times until, like, the door opened. And, whaddya know, there was the nerd in her dorky little turtleneck, those big-rimmed glasses, and that long skirt. I thought of saying something like 'you know, you'll never get in any guy's pants when you go around dressing like my mom', but I then realized it was, like, totally a lost cause. I remembered that, for some reason, she, like, really didn't like me. Must be some sort of mental illness that all nerds have.

But then, I noticed her, like, giving me this look. She, like, seemed to be angry, but it mostly looked like she was totally in pain.

"Thanks for ringing the doorbell over a bazillion times while I was in the washroom," was what she managed to say in her condition.

"I was just, like, checking to see if I was at the right place. Jeez," I shrugged. "And, like, whaddya know! Here you are!"

"What? You actually recognized my face?" she seemed surprised.

I decided to be honest. "No, it was more of the unkempt hair."

"Nice to see you too, Patricia," she grumbled.

Oh, right. Like, what was her name? I took a random guess. "It's, like, Hol Joqu Wieur…Kung Foo…right?"

"We're been over this, Patricia," she sounded, like, really annoyed, "my name is Kelly. Kelly Lee. Just because my parents are from Taiwan doesn't mean my name sounds like a mishmash of random sounds."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I, like, blew a bubble with my gum.

"Your parents phoned ahead," she said. "They told me you said that you were coming here to work on the project for three hours."

"Yup. That's what I told them," the bubble popped.

"So, wait," she gave me the, like, strangest look, "you're actually planning to spend three hours working on our Biology Project?"

"No," I scoffed. "Like, whatever gave you that idea?"

She smiled. I noticed a mirror on the wall of the hallway. I decided to check my makeup one more time. I frowned. Looks like I had some hair on my neck when they applied the tan.

"Oh, good," she said. "I was afraid I'd have to endure more of you than I do on a daily basis."

Another thing that I, like, didn't like about that girl…Carrie was it? She felt like just because she got higher grades than me, that she was _sooo_ smart. Dropping witty little lines like that, it didn't make her, like, any more popular than me, did it?

I sighed while I chewed my gum with my mouth open. She was probably just jealous 'cause everyone says I look like Ke$ha. Oh well. I'd just tell my friends later that, like, she's so much of a nerd that she never goes outside and so her, like, doctor prescribed twice the amount of recommended Vitamin D supplements. After that, all I'd, like, have to do was sit and watch the poison spread through the grapevine.

I rolled my eyes then checked my mascara. "Look, can we, like, hurry up? I've got to leave in fifteen minutes to, like, catch the bus downtown."

"So that's it, then," she totally liked grumbling, didn't she? "You're just gonna go downtown for three hours while I stay here and slave away at an assignment that takes two people to do?"

I applied some more lipstick. "You got, like, a problem with that?"

"No, not really," she shrugged. "It just kind of defeats the purpose of a 'group' project."

"Yeah, well," I smacked my lips to compress the lipstick, "the person who invented group projects was totally retarded."

It was then when that Cassie girl, like, turned around. I heard her sigh. In the mirror I saw her walk into another room. As much as I hated the idea, I thought it might be, like, a good idea to follow her, so I did. I checked my watch. I swore kinda loudly. I had totally wasted a good two minutes at this dump of a house, while I could have been waiting at the bus stop. Gee, like, _thanks_ mom and dad!

I heard her annoying voice from, like, another room. "Look, it requires both of us to present in front of the class on Monday. We'd better get you through the basics or else we're screwed. I've got it set up over here."

I looked around the corner and found her sitting next to a, like, really short table with a large poster on it. I guessed it was the project since, like, it had a picture of a blue and red blobular thing labeled with a whole bunch of big words I didn't know.

I looked up for, like, one second and saw a big fat tank by the far wall. Inside was a large lizard. Seriously weird. I looked at my watch, then back at the, like, gross lizard. I had twelve minutes before I had to leave for the bus. Which was totally not soon enough.

"Patricia, please stop staring at Judie and come over here," the dork spoke up.

That girl was, like, seriously getting annoying. I groaned and walked over to the table. But then I saw that she was sitting on the floor instead of a chair like a normal person. I frowned.

"What? You can't even afford chairs?" I scoffed.

"No, it's a traditional thing," she sounded like she was making up excuses. "A lot of my parent's friends drink tea on a low table like this. I thought it would make a good workspac—"

"But wouldn't you, like, flip over the table when you stand up?" it was totally a legit question.

She looked pained again, but sounded angry. "If you don't like it, then feel free to stand."

I grumbled to myself and sat down. One of, like, the ripped parts in my jeans got bigger when I did. But it totally didn't matter, since it, like, totally made it more fashionable!

"So, before we get started, do you remember what the difference between pulmonary capillaries and systemic capillaries are?" she asked.

"Do they, like, have anything to do with caterpillars?" I asked. "Because I, like, totally hate bugs. They're so—"

"No!" she let out. "They're part of the Closed Circulatory System! You know, the places where the blood gets oxygen and loses oxygen?"

"I don't like blood either," I looked to the side. "It's totally gross."

"My goodness, Patricia," she sounded angrier than she needed to be, "do you remember anything about this project at all?"

"My Chem teacher will fail me if I don't hand it in," I looked at my hot pink nails.

"No, it was our Biology teacher who said that," she said. "She got so frustrated that even when she pulled you aside, she inadvertently yelled at you loud enough for the whole class to hear."

There she, like, goes again. Acting like she's _sooo_ much smarter than me when she clearly isn't.

"Chemistry," I said, "Biology, same thing."

"Okay, look, I'll give you a basic summary," she sighed, "because otherwise, we're both going to fail. Okay, so here's how it works…"

Now, at this point my memory, like, gets really, totally foggy. I think she said some stuff about blue blood, pulmonary trunks (because elephants are apparently _really important_ to Chemistry), and a girl named Vena Cava who was inferior for some reason. Like, I can see why she would be inferior to me, because, like, everyone's inferior to me. But to that Celery girl?

But what I, like, do remember is looking around the room, then, like, looking at my watch, then at the, like, project so that Craggie would think I was listening, and then looking at that nerd Cowlie (oh my gosh, she needed a make-over so bad).

Soon all that boringness became, like, too unbearable, so I pulled out my phone. I looked at the time—oh my gosh, she had been talking for five straight minutes already? What a blabber mouth! While I had the phone out, I thought that I might as well text my boyfriend—you know, to tell him that I might be late getting over there because this project sucks and Miss Fashion Disaster here wouldn't shut up. But all he texted back was him swearing.

I was _about_ to reply when I heard a: "Wait, are you texting?"

I looked up. There was, like, that pained expression again.

I put away my phone. "No, I'm not."

"_Patricia!_" she let out.

"Hey!" I protested. "It's not _my_ fault that you're, like, so boring!"

Candy held her head in her hands. She, like, breathed in and sighed.

I pointed behind me. "I'm going to go find the kitchen. Tell me when you, like, decide to stop being mopey, mkay?"

I turned around and headed towards the hallway again. I could have sworn I heard the girl mutter: "I could be writing fanfiction right now, you stupid little…" or something.

I was about to leave when I noticed the lizard in the tank again. It was, like, staring at me. Oh my gosh, does _everything _in this town want to eat me? I decided to give it the silent treatment and continued my search.

Turns out, the kitchen was just around the corner. Like, how lucky is that? From the kitchen there was a small hole in the wall so you could see into the room where miss mopey nerd was being geeky. And that lizard too. It was still totally checking me out.

Anyway, I was, like, almost in the kitchen when all of a sudden my foot landed on something that, like, wasn't hallway carpet. I looked down and saw a pair of boxers. And they, were, like, totally stained! I lifted my foot up. It was _soo_ gross!

"Ewww…" By now I was, like, totally disgusted. "Is this _yours?_"

"No." My gosh, this girl is like an ice queen without the queen part! "It belongs to my brother. He always leaves his crap lying around the place."

I stopped chewing my gum for a second. "You have a brother?"

"Uhh, _yeah,_" she said. "His name is Justin, remember? He's the only guy at our school who has failed to graduate three years in a row. He's one grade ahead of us now?"

I paused. "Ohhh! You mean the loser occult guy!"

"Pretty much," she sighed.

"So, I guess it, like, runs in the family," I giggled.

"Please don't remind me that we're related," she said in this totally serious tone. "I get enough of it from the teachers."

Why was she, like, always so grumpy with me? She _obviously _just wasn't used to my presence, that's all. I spat out my gum. I was getting bored of the flavour anyway. It landed in a little corner on the carpet.

"So, uh, Cassandra," I began.

"It's _Kelly,_" she said.

"Can we hurry it up a bit?" I looked at my watch again. "I gotta hook up with someone in an hour."

"With your boyfriend or with a client?" she asked.

"Ha ha, you are _sooo_ funny, that I forgot to laugh!" I chuckled. "You should, like, become one of those funny guys!"

"Comedians?" she grumbled.

"That was it!" I clapped.

There was that look again. She really did like looking pained, didn't she? Maybe she was having a killer kidney stone or something.

Either way, I decided that this was getting really boring. I decided to help myself to something to drink. That Therapy Gum had left me really, really thirsty. I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge door. Inside were various Asian things, like packages of Daft Dinner and leftover spaghetti and stuff.

But what really caught my attention was, like, the six-pack of beer near the back. I took a peek at my watch. I still had, like, five minutes to spare. Besides, a quick drink wouldn't hurt. Therapy Beer—I really liked the sound of that!

So then I, like, reached out for a can. But just before I grabbed one, I noticed a sticky note attached to one of the cans. I squinted to read it, because that's what people who read all the time do.

The sticky note read 'touch these & die. this meens u dad.' Pssh! I wasn't anyone's dad. I wasn't even a guy so I couldn't even be a dad if I wanted to. I reached forward to pull off the ugly little sticky note. Besides, I could, like, have a beer if I da—

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," came a voice from behind.

I turned my head to see the nerd freak standing, like, right behind me! Seriously, how much more creepy can you get?

"You're not, like, the boss of me," I huffed.

"No, you don't get it," she said. "My brother, along with Satanic Cults, is into black magic. He draws a spell out on the back of sticky notes, and leaves them all over stuff he doesn't want us to touch. They're magic traps."

"Oh please," I rolled my eyes, "you think I, like, buy that hocus pocus crap?"

"I dunno," she shrugged. "Why don't you ask my Aunt Judie?"

The girl pointed behind her to the lizard tank. The lizard was, like, eating a cricket. I cringed at the grossness.

I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Since you're _sooo_ not letting me have one, I'll just, like, get one at my boyfriend's place."

"Look, are you done yet?" she asked. "I thought you had to leave soon."

I checked my watch. "Like, in _four minutes_. But if I miss the bus, it doesn't matter. I texted my boyfriend and told him I'd be late."

She raised both eyebrows. "So you were texting."

"It's, like, none of your business," I rolled my eyes.

Carady let out a sigh. "Look, would it be easier if I just wrote out a speech for you to practice?"

"Do whatever you want," I closed the fridge door. "I, like, might look it over. Just send it to my house or whatever."

"Okay," she sounded like a bit of the pain went away. "So, what's your address again?"

I turned my head. It was then I, like, noticed this weird little book thing with two screens instead of pages. It was really nerdy, if you ask me. The screens were glowing slightly, so, like, does that mean it was on?

"You live up in Flushing Waters, right?" she asked.

That's when it clicked. "Oh my gosh, are you like one of those video gaming girls? Like, with that Call of Obligation crap?"

I could feel her eyes on my back, probably giving that pained expression again, but I didn't, like, care anymore. I sauntered my way towards the game thing. On one of the two screens was plastered a sticky note. The other showed some sort of menu—you know, one of those menus you see on DVDs, only this one was a lot geekier?

I picked up the note. It read 'u left ur ds on u moron'. Like, what's a 'ds'?

"Hey, don't touch my 3DS!" I heard that Carol girl protest. "It's brand new!"

"Oh, and, like, what are _you_ afraid of?" I scoffed.

I put the ds, or 3DS as dubbed by the nerd, back down. I looked back at the note in my hand and, like, noticed something really weird! It looked like a spot on the note had sparked into flame. And then there was, like, another one! And another! Before I knew it, the three flames were burning themselves into a circle—no, a pentagon? Whatever, it was a shape they taught in math class, so obviously it wasn't important at all.

The note burned along a, like, strange path and it felt like my whole hand was burning up. But as the feeling slowly spread up my whole arm, it felt less and less like fire. It wasn't hot or anything, but felt a lot like funky acupuncture. And it stung in, like, the worst way!

But what I did know was that it was as painful as heck! I started screaming.

"What did you do?!" I yelled, but the sound of the flames seemed to drown me out. "This isn't funny, you know!"

I could almost hear a "What did _I_ do? What did _YOU _do?!" but, I could have been, like, imagining things.

The feeling, now almost completely covering my body, was getting more and more unbearable. And, also, I couldn't hear anything except the loud cracklings of the fires! Like, I wouldn't have minded if it was, like, a Lady GooGoo CD blasting on repeat, but this was, like, so boring!

And the weirdest part was that I, like, wanted to let go, but couldn't! I know, right? For some reason, my fingers were, like, unable to let go! It was like they had been totally glued to something after a wacky party gone horribly wrong. By now the flames had made it all the way to my knees, and I then suddenly realized that it was getting hard to, like, breathe.

The stinging the not-hot fire was making everything in my body tremble something bad. But with, like, a crap ton load of effort, I was able to turn the note around. Underneath the pentacle, now almost completely burned through to the other side of the note, read 'later u sucker'. My desperate screams drowned out by the deafening crackles of the trippy fires were the last things I heard.

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A/N: YAY! SHE'S DEAD! No, I wish. But, trust me, the next chapter will be LoZ related and won't be written from her point of view. In other words, it gets a lot better from here on out. :) Hope to see you around next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2: Attack of the Cosplayers

**Chapter 2: Attack of the Cosplayers**

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A/N: Welcome back, guys! …For those of you who did come back. I hope the last chapter wanted to make you throw your pitchforks at the screen, because now is where the fic starts getting interesting—A.K.A. the Patricia torture begins. This is going to be sweet.

First of all, yes, the perspective changes from Patricia's point of view. I did this on purpose. The perspectives jump around in this fic for a reason. Please ignore it if it bothers you.

Second, I'm sorry to all of you who are from Thailand. For the record, I know the language is called 'Thai' and not 'Thailandese'. Patricia's stupidity is not my own.

Third, I want to apologize to Dia, a faithful reviewer of mine, who was offended by the use of the word "retarded". I am deeply, deeply sorry, and I realize how sensitive this topic is. I, myself, have a cousin who is mentally handicapped, and I do try my best to avoid using that word. However, as stated in chapter one, I wanted to make Patricia as dislikable as possible and seeing how she was the character who said it, I'd like to say again that her views and morals are not my own. I believe that is the first time I use that word in all of my fanfics, and it is not one I say lightly. Once more, I apologize from the bottom of my heart, Dia.

Now, as you may notice scrolling down the page a little bit, all the swearing is censored. I'm doing this for personal reasons, not because I feel the need to censor it for you guys. Unlike my old fic _Navi the Kokiri_, there is a reason I rated this T, but it's due to content matter (especially in a later chapter), not because of the swearing. So if the blatant censoring of the swearing really bothers you, then just copy paste the line into a word document or something and fill it in there.

One last thing, the size of Hyrule Castle Town and Hyrule Field are going to be described as being larger than they are in the game. This is to make the areas seem realistic to me so when I write I can take the locations seriously. With that said, I hope you enjoy.

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The door to a jail cell flung open. In came a guard carrying a girl who shrieked like a madman. Kicking and screaming loudly, this girl was none other than Patricia. Her blonde hair was ruffled with disorganized strands of hair sticking up and ornamented with scattered pieces of hay. Garbed in nothing but a patched, gray dress, Patricia tumbled to the cobblestone floor.

Patricia snapped her head around just in time to see the prison door slam shut. She wasted no time in throwing herself up against the door and banged her fists down on it.

Pacing around her cell like a speed walker, she hollered with clenched fists and the occasional icy glare at the door. Out of breath, Patricia began to take in her surroundings.

In the corner of the cell lay a mound of hay with a small blanket draped over top. And, over by the far wall, sat a little jar.

She blinked. What the heck could that be for?

Patricia scoffed and plopped herself down on the blanket. Grinding her teeth mindlessly, she leaned up herself against the wall.

"Okay, okay, like, calm the f—" Patricia heaved, "down, Patricia. First, we've got to, like, find out where that little witch Katy left you. You can't take her down if you're, like, screaming your head off. Besides, screaming's, like, totally gonna give you wrinkles. So you just need to calm down and remember what the therapist told you… Breath in, breath out… Breath in, breath out…"

It was then she noticed the small wooden sign right next to the door. She squinted. None of the letters on the sign were anything she could read.

Patricia blinked. "I'm in Thailand?"

* * *

Link walked into the royal hall, garbed in a green tunic. In the throne sat Zelda, tall and poised. She wore a long gown that with her cape flowed onto the small stairs before her. Atop her head sat a large crown. Link knelt down and bowed before her.

"You called for me, your majesty?" Link asked.

Zelda nodded. "That is correct."

"I must apologize for what I'm wearing right now," Link bowed deeper. "I was not expecting to be called in today."

"No, no need to worry," Zelda smiled. "I find it rather nostalgic, actually."

Link shrugged. "It has been a few years since I last wore them, your highness."

"You wore it when we first met, too. And even when we both warned my father of Ganondorf. I could never forget them," Zelda said.

"Your highness?" Link sounded a bit irritated.

"Oh, r-right. How silly of me to dwell on such matters," Zelda shook her head.

Zelda cleared her throat.

"I am sorry for bothering you on your day off, Link," Zelda said, "but due to today's ceremony I'm afraid you're the only one I can turn to."

"Indeed," Link nodded. "It's understandable. The rest of the militia is either on duty or helping with the preparations."

"Now, as for your assignment… Erm…" Zelda paused. "It's a bit difficult to speak of."

"Have the visions returned, Queen Zelda?" Link looked concerned.

"No, thankfully my nights have been undisturbed by nightmares," Zelda said. "But what troubles me, rather, is the absurdity of this task. You may not believe what I have to tell you."

"You would not lie to me, your majesty," Link bowed his head once more. "I know that. After all, was it not your dreams—no, the visions you had as a child that changed your father's opinion about Ganondorf?"

"As were your words about his deeds from the future, yes, we were thankfully able to convince father," Zelda closed her eyes. "However, the eye witness accounts of this task…sound rather…_odd_."

"I am all ears, your highness," Link smiled.

Zelda held her breath. "It seems that earlier this afternoon a girl fell out of the sky and landed in a haystack."

"I beg your pardon?" Link raised an eyebrow.

"From what the patrol at the time told me," Zelda sighed, "people were alarmed by her shrieking, and she didn't even waver when they took her away."

"They arrested her?" Link paused. "Is it a crime to fall out of the sky?"

"As of right now, no," Zelda sighed. "However, the head of the patrol at the time told me that they arrested her on the spot for disturbing the peace and to avoid hysteria among the townsfolk. I see no reason to object to his judgment. That is why the girl is still in custody."

Link sat there for a moment looking puzzled. "So, um… Your highness, why are you telling _me _this?"

"As it turns out," Zelda began, "apart from her previous actions, she seems to be of relatively good behaviour and sound mind. However, releasing her among the townfolk may put the people on edge."

"Understandable," Link nodded. "It would be rather unsettling if I had seen her strange arrival and saw her walking around town the same day."

"What I need from you is to escort this woman, wherever she came from, to Kakariko Village," Zelda instructed.

"I do not wish to disrespect you with this comment, your majesty, but why not ask one of the lieutenants?" Link raised an eyebrow. "It _is _my day off. Or was."

"You are the only member of Hyrule's militia who isn't busy," Zelda sighed.

"Ah, that's right." Link smiled. "Today's ceremony marks the fifth anniversary of when you were crowned queen, correct?"

"I know you are not much of a people person, so I thought that letting you have the day off would be the best alternative celebration," Zelda added.

"Of that I am grateful, however now you want me to escort a woman who came screaming from the sky on my supposed holiday?" Link asked. "Seems a bit…contradictory, in my opinion."

"Look, if you complete this task today," Zelda sighed, "I'll grant you an additional month's leave."

Link's eyes widened. He closed his mouth to contain the drool.

Link gulped. "A month off?"

Zelda nodded.

Link coughed. "Well, uh… I guess I'd better get going."

Link stood up and turned to the door.

"Thank you," Zelda smiled. "I truly cannot express my gratitude for all you have done for me—no, this country, over the years. I simply cannot imagine what Hyrule would be like without you for even five years."

Link froze on the spot.

"Eh heh heh…" Link chuckled. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

* * *

"So the Queen sent you, huh?" one of the guards asked.

The guard turned the key and the lock opened with a clatter. The door revealed a corridor lined with other wooden doors. Link walked through the hall with the two other guards on either side. They paid no attention to the peering eyes of the other prisoners through the peepholes. Link smiled.

"Pretty much, yeah," Link nodded.

"You never get a break, now do ya?" another asked. "You almost work day and night for the queen and even on your rare days off you help someone else in need."

"Like that cute daughter of Talon," the first guard nudged Link.

"It's nothing, really," Link chuckled nervously. "I've been helping out others even as a kid. I find it to be very rewarding."

"I dunno. Sounds like a pain in the a—" the first guard began.

"Here we are," the second guard interrupted.

Link and the first guard stopped in front of one of the doors as the second guard pulled out some keys.

"Now, be careful, Sir," the second guard said. "Word on the street is that she's a witch. So better make sure that you have a protective spell on or she may try something tricky."

"Good to know," Link shrugged. "Nayru's Love it is."

Link cast Nayru's Love. A blue light enshrouded his body.

"No, no, no," the first guard huffed. "Are ya deaf, man? The word is that she's _clearly_ a prostitute."

"So, I don't need this, then?" Link said.

Link dispelled Nayru's Love. The blue light faded from around him.

"Where did ya hear that?" the second guard huffed.

"It's not hard to put two and two together. Did ya _see_ the clothes she wore earlier?" the first guard asked. "No self-respectin' witch would wear that unless she was tryin' to snare a few decent men!"

"Unless she it was all she had to wear," the second guard said. "Those rags were so worn that the blouse was practically invisible! Must have had that shirt for years! And when you're a witch, people don't just up and give ya clothes very often, so they wear 'em all they can!"

"Good point," Link nodded.

Link cast Nayru's Love. The blue light enshrouded him once more.

"Bet ya anything she was dirty too, since a good bath would be hard to come by!" the second guard nodded.

"Come on, now!" the first guard huffed. "The guy on the last shift said she kicked and screamed when the men put her into that prison garb. And her face was _clearly_ free of all blotches! Why would a witch put so much time into 'er appearance like that, I ask ya!"

Link sighed and dispelled Nayru's Love.

"Well answer me this! Why would a prostitute fall from the sky?!" the second guard growled.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen," Link sighed. "Just let me in. If I come back a frog, then we'll know which one of you is right."

"Fair enough," the first guard shrugged.

The second guard grabbed one of the keys and unlocked the door.

"Well, in ya go, sir!" the second guard nodded. "Do ya prefer crickets or flies?"

"Er, neither," Link frowned. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Link stepped into the cell and the door closed behind him. Link turned to see the girl, Patricia, sitting on top of her bed. If he could call her that. Link had to restrain himself from gagging. Her fingernails had been turned an unnatural colour of pink, her eyebrows looked like they had been drawn on her face, her eyelashes were long and spindly, her bright pink cheeks were a huge contrast to her tanned face, and her lips were—Link could barely believe his eyes—purple.

He took a step back in surprise. Her eyes fell upon him, examining him head to toe. Link gulped. She stood up and took a couple steps forward.

"Hello," she spoke very slowly, "you speaky English? Me no speaky Thailandese."

Link raised an eyebrow. "Never heard that accent before."

Patricia clapped her hands together. "Oh thank goodness! I'm so glad that the first person I meet in Thailand speaks normal."

"Thailand?" Link blinked. "And what is that English you mentioned?"

"English is, like, the language we're speaking. Duh," Patricia said.

"I'm sorry," Link said. "I don't speak this 'English' you speak of."

Patricia rolled her eyes. She groaned loudly.

"Oh, are you one of those people who's all like 'I don't speak English, I speak American'? You know, I think that's really self-centered," Patricia scoffed. "I mean, come on! Everyone knows that English originated in Ireland. Duh!"

"Uhhhh…" Link was at a loss for words. "That's not at all what I was implying…?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Patricia gasped, "so if you're not, like, speaking English, then what are we speaking?"

"Do you even need to ask?" Link asked.

Patricia gasped loudly. She covered her mouth.

"Oh. My. Gosh. I understand Thailandese!" she squealed. "Take that, Katrina! Look who's, like, the smart one _now!_"

Link stared as Patricia made a strange motion with her hand. He learned later that it was called a 'fist pump'.

"Ummm… Congratulations?" Link looked around uneasily. "Anyways, I'm your escort. Apparently you're being let out for relatively good behaviour."

"Took them long enough," Patricia huffed. "My dad is only like one of the most important guys in the packaging industry ever, sheesh."

"Um, pardon me?" Link asked.

Patricia grabbed Link by the shirt. "Come on, Green Force Ranger, let's go."

Patricia began walking towards the door, but stopped suddenly and began eyeing Link again.

"That reminds me…" Patricia turned around. "You look _veerrry _familiar… Where have I, like, seen you before?"

Link stared back blankly.

"Oh my gosh," Patricia held her head. "I know where I've seen you! You're one of those, like, guys who is into cosplay, aren't you? I knew it! You're totally cosplaying as that one guy who was in Fatal Combat! Link, was it?"

"That is my name, yes," Link said. "How you have come to know of it, I have no clue. But I have had no plans to partake in any form of fatal combat—"

"Oh, I get it, you're like, one of those cosplayers who completely becomes the person they're dressing up as's identity?" Patricia rolled her eyes. "Oh my gosh, how immature is _that?_"

Link raised an eyebrow.

"Well, whatever," Patricia scoffed. "Just, like, get me out of this cell already."

Link sighed. "That was the Queen's instructions—"

Patricia's jaw dropped, "Thailand has a queen?!"

"Erm…if by Thailand, you mean Hyrule, then yes," Link answered hesitantly. "In any case, my assignment is to—"

"Oh. My. Gosh," Patricia gasped. "The Queen is friends with a cosplayer? And I thought _I_ was stooping low with spending a couple minutes at Kakalatte's house."

Link raised both eyebrows.

"My gosh, will you stop looking at me like that?" Patricia groaned. "It's like I'm a freak or something—"

"You did fall from the sky earlier this afternoon," Link said.

"Yeah, well, that was totally not my fault," Patricia rolled her eyes. "Now hurry up and get your cosplayer friends to let me out."

"May I at least get a name?" Link asked.

"Sheesh, you cosplayers _are_ out of the loop if you haven't heard of me!" Patricia groaned.

Link sighed heavily. "Just answer the question."

"Fine," Patricia huffed. "Name's Patricia."

"…Pa…tri…cia?" Link blinked.

"_The_ Patricia Patterson of the Patterson family," Patricia corrected.

"That has got to be the strangest name I've ever heard," Link stated. "Sacred Realms, what were you parents thinking?"

"Excuse me?!" Patricia yelled. "_You're_ the one cosplaying as a website portal!"

"But, _Patterson_…" Link paused. "It's just…so…"

"It's just what?" Patricia huffed. "Got a problem with my last name, nerd?"

"Oh?" Link blinked. "Is that the name of your clan?"

"You know, **the** Pattersons! Only, like, the most important family ever! My father totally invented flavoured duct tape," Patricia said. "Dad likes to brag about how it makes kidnapping situations less stressful for the victim. It's annoying."

Link cocked his head. "You've…lost me."

"Never mind!" Patricia rolled her eyes. "Just, like, hurry it up and maybe I'll reconsider suing you losers. And I want those designer threads back."

Link sighed. He walked over and knocked on the door. The door opened for them and revealed the two guards. One had a smug grin on his face. The other held up a rosary with the Triforce symbol in the center.

"Be gone, witch!" he exclaimed. "Torment our people no longer!"

"Pshh," Patricia shrugged. "I've been called worse."

"So, uh, babe," the first guard grinned, "you may look a little weird, but if you ever need a client, I've been saving up—"

"Whatever," Patricia rolled her eyes. "Now where are my threads?"

Link and the two guards raised an eyebrow. "Threads?"

"Uh, _yeah!_" Patricia grabbed to the edge of her gown. "Threads, clothes, whatever! You don't, like, expect me to wear this in public, do you?"

"Fair enough," Link shrugged. "Care to take us to where you're keeping Miss Patricia's clothes?"

Both the guards looked around sheepishly. One of them coughed.

"Er…" the second guard bit his lip. "About that…"

"They kinda…aren't…" the first guard grinned sheepishly.

"What?" Link blinked. "I'm not sure I follow."

"Did you _see _the condition they were in?" the second guard asked. "Even the homeless dress with more self-respect than what she had on!"

"Why does this not surprise me?" Link sighed.

"You sure you, uh, wanna wear those again?" the second guard asked. "You can probably find something in town that's much nicer—"

"I paid three hundred dollars on those jeans alone, and you, like, don't even want to know how much the shirt was," Patricia growled through clenched teeth. "Give me my designer clothes or I will end you."

"Told ya she was a witch," the second guard whispered to the first.

"Please calm down, Miss Patricia," Link sighed.

"WHERE THE F—" Patricia shrieked, "ARE MY CLOTHES?!"

Both guards avoided eye contact. Then one indicated for them to follow. After quite a bit of walking, or stomping in Patricia's case, they reached a metal door with light pouring out from the cracks. They opened the door just in time to see another guard toss Patricia's ripped jeans into an incinerator.

Patricia stood in silence.

"I'm, er, sorry," the second guard chuckled nervously. "But, seriously, where do you buy pants in that bad condition?"

"And for three hundred…erm, scholars, was it?" the first guard added.

Patricia pounced in the air. "YOU LITTLE—RRRRAAAAAAGGGHHHH!"

Patricia leapt like a feral beast and lunged at the guard by the incinerator. Her pink talons led the chase with her distorted face following close behind. Reflexively Link grabbed onto her ankles, which cut her jump short. Her face hit the floor. This, however, did not hinder her rabid clawing and hissing. Link thought he heard a small crackling sound nearby, but he ignored it.

"I'll kill you! I'll f—" she yelled, "—ing kill you! YOU HEAR ME?!"

The second guard leaned over. "Maybe we should lock her up again."

"No, I can handle her," Link sighed.

"Do you want me to return these?" the third guard gulped. "I was going to give them as a present for my wife, but now…"

Patricia's eyes shot up from the floor. In the third guard's hands was a black and pink cell phone and a black compact.

"Only if you want—" Link began.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" Patricia's shrill voice echoed off the floor.

Patricia's ankles wriggled free from Link's hands, and she clawed herself across the room. She clambered up, snatched the compact and cell phone from the third guard's hands and put them in her shirt. They clattered to the floor.

"You sure you don't want her locked up again?" the second guard turned to Link.

"She seems to have calmed down considerably," Link paused.

Patricia swore to herself and snatched up the cell phone and compact again. She glared at the guard by the incinerator.

"That still don't mean she's right in the head," the second guard added.

"Gentlemen, when have women ever been sane?" Link asked.

"Good point," the first guard nodded.

"Look, guys," Link sighed, "I _reaaaaallllyyyy_ want that month off Zelda promised me. Besides, for the most part, Miss Patricia seems sane enough to mingle with society."

Patricia held up her cell phone. She began wandering around the room.

"I certainly hope you're right, sir," the first guard gulped.

"I dunno," the second guard muttered. "She seems quite possessive over her strange magic talismans…"

Patricia leaned her arm out a barred window and into the open air.

"Hey, come now," the first guard huffed. "I thought we agreed that she wasn't a witch."

"Just because—" the second guard began.

"AHHHHHH!" Patricia shrieked.

All four men turned to Patricia. She stared at her phone in horror.

"No cell phone reception?!" Patricia let out. "What kind of Cosplay Camp is this?!"

"…Again, sir, are you _sure_ you want to—" the first guard began.

"Yes, I'm sure," Link groaned. "Are you ready to head out, Miss Patricia?"

"Wait a second, here!" Patricia let out. "You can't _seriously _expect me to go out in this!"

Link raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Patricia grabbed the edge of her garb. "This dress looks like a zombie hospital gown!"

"Zombie…hospital…gown?" the second guard blinked.

"I suppose I can buy you something in town," Link rolled his eyes.

"Then you'd better get a move on," Patrcia huffed. "I don't want to hang around this freak show convention any longer than I have to."

"Your measurements?" Link asked.

"I'm size six," Patricia said. "Shirt, women's small."

Link paused. He stared at the other guards, who looked just as confused as he was. He turned back to Patricia, who was glaring at him expectantly.

"…Very well, Miss Patricia," Link nodded slowly. "I'll keep that in mind?"

Link took his leave muttering something about how large sizes fit everyone.

"And no polyester!" Patricia called out. "There's no way I'm having that stuff tainting my wardrobe!"

All the guards stared at Patricia.

"What's polyester?" one of them asked.

"Your face is polyester," Patricia snapped.

Silence filled the room. The guards pondered how one could make garments from the faces of men.

* * *

Link entered the dungeons to find that Patricia had been moved out into a room closer to the entrance. She sat on a wooden bench with the two guards on either side. She sat in her prison garb with her legs crossed, her arms crossed, and looked, overall, cross.

"How is she?" Link turned to a guard.

"Fine," the second one shrugged. "She stopped speaking to us, though."

"Obviously offended when you asked her if she was a witch," the first guard nodded.

"Ha! And asking a lady if she's a prostitute is flattering?" the second guard scoffed.

Link raised an eyebrow. "I'm just not going to say anything."

Link spotted Patricia rolling her eyes, before she continued glaring off in the distance. Her hot air was puffing off her like steam from a boiling kettle.

But that was all about to change, Link thought to himself. He couldn't wait to show her the beautiful clothing he found. He smiled as he recalled his find. A long, light purple woolen dress, an elegant pink plaid shawl, and a blouse as white as snow. What a lucky find, he nodded. Some of the brightest colours and for even less rupees than usual (he had the good economy to thank for that). Surely, in this, even Patricia would look as good as some of the lookers around town. And the best thing of all? It came from that little thrift store in the back alley.

Link held the garments up proudly. Patricia looked at them out of the corner of her eye.

Link could barely contain his excitement. "What do you think?"

Patricia scanned the garment with her eyes, then away again.

"They're nice," she huffed.

Link's smile grew even wider. "I knew you'd like them!"

"Yeah, sure," Patricia spat on the floor. "Okay, now seriously, what did you get me?"

"I got you the shawl since your claws are the same colou—Wait, what?" Link asked.

"This is a joke, right?" she asked.

"What do you mean? Of course this isn't a joke!" Link held the garments up.

"I'm not wearing that," Patricia said.

Link stared at her. "Excuse _me?_"

"I'm not," she crossed her arms. "First a patched hospital gown and now clothing from, like, the sixties? You cosplayers really need to go on a shopping spree in Lala Lime."

"You want me to buy something else even though, at a _thrift shop_, it cost me three hundred rupees? I'm sorry, but even if I was that patient, I don't have enough rupees to buy you—" Link huffed.

"Hey! Whoa! You got me clothes at the _thrift store?!_" Patricia let out.

"So?" Link asked.

"_So?!_" Patricia shrieked.

"What did you expect me to buy? Lavish silks?" Link asked. "I'm sorry, I'm not rich enough to buy you clothing more expensive than what's on my back."

"But _second hand _clothes!?" Patricia looked appalled.

"You haven't exactly been the most _delightful _person to be around," the second guard whispered to her.

"You either wear what I got you or walk around the streets of the market in your current attire," Link glared at Patricia.

"I'm not wearing this either!" Patricia pointed to the dress.

"Oh, so you're going naked then?" the first guard looked interested.

Patricia stared at the first guard. He blew a kiss at her.

"Grrmmnnaaahh—Fine!" Patricia snapped.

Patricia stomped over and tore the clothes out of Link's hands.

"Where can I change?" Patricia huffed.

"There's a broom closet down the hall," the second guard said.

"Or you can change right here," the first guard winked.

Patricia threw a glare back at him. "Sorry, I'm too sober for that."

Patricia stormed off and around the corner. The men stood in a short silence.

"Hey, witch, strumpet, or not, she's still a lady," Link huffed. "Show some respect."

"A lady who falls out of the sky with no means of getting there," the first guard pointed out.

"And a lady who screams like a madman when her clothes are burned," the second guard added.

"Alright, so she is a bit strange, but that still—" Link began.

Both the guards tried to suppress their laughter.

Link sighed. "Alright, she's really strange, yes, but she seems to me just a lost foreigner that—"

"Oi. Guys," came a voice.

All the men turned around to see Patricia leaning up against a wall. Link frowned. She was wearing the clothes he got her, but they didn't look nearly as good on her as he had expected. The blouse fit awkwardly, she kept scratching at the dress, and, for some reason, she had tied her shawl around her hips. But what really stuck out to Link was how much her spidery eyelashes, pink cheeks, and tan clashed with her attire. It created a very stark contrast.

The men stared in silence.

"Go on, just say it. I look terrible, don't I?" Patricia huffed.

The guards and Link exchanged uneasy glances.

"Uhh, er… No!" Link coughed. "No. Not at all."

"They look absolutely splendid," the second guard chuckled nervously.

Link forced a smile. "You look like a true lady."

"I look like my grandma," Patricia crossed her arms.

"And she would be so proud if she could see you now," Link smiled.

"And what's in this dress? Fleas?" Patricia grumbled.

"It looks to be made of wool," the first guard responded.

"Great," Patricia rolled her eyes.

"In any case, they really suit you," the second guard added.

"Y-Yeah," Link nodded. "Really."

"Hmph," Patricia scoffed. "I guess I'll keep it on for a little while. Maybe it'll repel horny cosplayers."

"Is a 'cosplayer' you keep mentioning a kind of monster?" the second guard asked. "Or do only some of them have horns…?"

"Anyways, will you crazy LARPers take me home now?" Patricia huffed. "I don't think mom or dad will appreciate the whole hostage gig you set up."

"Hostage…_gig?_" the first guard blinked.

Link sighed. "We can leave if you're ready, Miss Patricia."

"I understand 'hostage', but 'gig'?" the first guard turned to the other. He shrugged.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Patricia scoffed. "Let's go!"

"Yes, Miss Patricia," Link grumbled.

Patricia stormed towards the stairway that lead out of the dungeon.

"It's just for a day. It's just for a day. It's just for a day…" Link muttered to himself.

Link followed her up the staircase.

* * *

The walk through Market Town, to Link's relief, was mainly uneventful. Sure, they got the occasional stare, and people started whispering among themselves as soon as they laid eyes on Patricia, but Link noticed that she paid them no heed, so he ignored them as well.

Their journey to the drawbridge was a silent and short one. Link decided that this was because Patricia was mad at him or she wanted as little to do with him as possible. Link hoped it was the latter.

She finally spoke when they arrived at Hyrule Field. "Um, what the freaking heck? Where are all the cars?"

"Cars?" Link asked.

"You know," Patricia grumbled, "the things with wheels that hot guys invite you to hop into! Then they take you—"

"Oh, you are wondering about our method of transportation," Link nodded. "Just give me a moment."

"Thank goodness," Patricia rolled her eyes. "For a moment I totally thought you were going to tell me that you Thailandesers don't have cars."

Link decided it was best not to ask. He pulled out the Ocarina of Time and put the instrument to his lips. Patricia stared at Link like he was mad until Epona's Song filled the air. Epona came charging out from over the horizon and galloped eagerly towards the two of them.

Link hopped up onto Epona's saddle and held out an inviting hand.

"Ewww! Are you kidding me?" Patricia yelled. "Are you seriously expecting me to ride on a _horse?_"

Link blinked. "What's wrong with horses?"

"It's so, like, old fashioned. And they poop and stuff. Besides, it probably has fleas!" Patricia made a disgusted face. "Like, I know I was one of those pony girls as a kid, but I was, like, totally stupid back then!"

"Oh, so you want to walk then?" Link asked.

"Oh my gosh, you Thailandesers are completely useless!" Patricia let out. "Fine, I'll get on, but if I get bite marks anywhere on me, I'm going to feed that silly hat to a poodle! You have those in Thailand, right?"

"Probably," Link rolled his eyes. "Now, come on. We've got a ways to go."

Patricia grabbed Link's hand and was hoisted up behind him.

"Hold tight," Link said.

"I don't wanna touch you!" she huffed. "You reek of nerd!"

"If you insist, Miss Patricia," Link groaned.

Patricia crossed her arms as Link shook the reigns. Epona lurched forward. Patricia fell over backwards and into the mud. She glanced up to see Link riding off without her.

"A—" Patricia yelled after him, "—HOLE!"

* * *

A/N: And that's chapter two! It didn't turn out as well as I wanted it to, but I hope you guys liked it better than the previous one. Again, deepest apologizes to you, Dia, and anyone else who was offended last chapter, but I hope this chapter at least _somewhat_ made up for it. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! :D


	3. Chapter 3: Something's hot, but not you

**Chapter 3: There's something hot in here and it's not you.**

A/N: Hello and welcome back! …That is, _if _anyone has stuck around by this point.

First of all, like Hyrule Field and Castle Town, Kakariko is written like it's larger than it actually is and including Anju (the Cucco lady)'s house. This is because there are too few buildings in Kakariko. And Patricia wouldn't lodge in the House of Skulltula, I'm sorry. Also it'd be too Mary-Sueish if she lodged with Impa right away. I apologize in advance if the additional buildings bother you.

When doing research about why people in the Middle Ages didn't bath regularly, I found out (on a site called _Top 10 Myths About The Middle Ages_, for those who are interested) that most of them did. Since this messed up something I planned for the Hylians I had to change it up a bit so that it still fit the defamiliarization. And yes, that is a legit word. Despite what Microsoft Word keeps telling me.

* * *

The afternoon sun's glare reflected off my shield and into my eyes. I rubbed the old rag over the emblem of Hyrule. After dipping the rag into the little tub of oil beside me, I moved on to one of the more intricate pieces of the emblem.

It had been a long time since I last had the chance to do this. I looked at the scratches in the paint, at the revealed metal beneath. Actually, I hadn't done this in at least a couple years. And the beating it took made that evident. I remembered when I first got this shield, back when I was just a kid. Got it on discount, too.

I gazed at my blue eyes staring back at me. My hat was crooked. Whoops. I adjusted it with my hand. My hand was covered in oil. I gazed at my reflection again and saw faint, dark green fingerprints on my hat. Double whoops.

Oh well, I sighed. It would come out eventually. I looked at the stained rag and frowned. Hopefully.

But, whatever, I leaned further back against the tree. This was nice. I finally had enough time to get around to the small things I didn't have time for on duty. Even if it was only going to last a month, it was still refreshing.

I would even go so far as to say the month had been perfect. Actually, I think I did say that. The vacation had been perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"Aaaah! Where did all these chickens come from?!" I heard her voice from behind.

…except for Patricia.

"Run into a nearby building," I sighed. "They should leave you alone after a while."

"What if they, like, break the door down?!" she yelled back.

"They won't break the door down," I rolled my eyes.

I stared at my shield once more. In the corner I saw Patricia running with a flock of angry Cuccos in close pursuit. Patricia scrambled for the door of a nearby house and a loud slam ensued. The angered gobbles soon quieted down to spiteful pecking and eventually soft clucking.

Patricia. Strange first name, strange clan name. Why was her clan named Patterson? If her father was Patter, she certainly wasn't a _son_. Over all, she was a strange person. Name aside, her appearance was also quite abnormal. She was skinny like she was diseased and had the tan of a labourer. In my opinion she was, frankly, quite ugly, yet she seemed deluded enough to believe she was the most beautiful girl alive.

And she had some of the strangest habits too. I rested the shield on my knee and looked for untouched spots. Every morning, she used her small black trinket to put powders and liquids all over her face. I walked in on her once before she performed this ritual—she screamed bloody murder. Another time, I saw her wandering around the village holding up her other trinket and muttering something about cell foam receptions. So, the trinket was needed to find receptions for foam in cells? Very peculiar.

There were other things too. She told me that she has been spending more time outside than she usually did, but it seemed to me that she was getting paler and paler every day. Not only that, but at the base of her head, her sunshine yellow hair was a deep brown colour. And the weirdest of all, in my opinion, was her obsession to bathe daily. Most of the people I knew bathed weekly, yes, (with exception the Gorons who only bathed in public hot springs for certain rituals,) but _daily_? She washed as often as a Zora!

I looked at my reflection and sighed. Why did I agree to stay in Kakariko with Patricia again?

_"You…"_ I recalled her voice from a week or so back, _"…**jerk**…"_

_"Did you enjoy your walk?"_

I remembered she yelled at me for quite a while after that. But it was mostly words I did not recognize.

_"Farewell, Miss Patricia. I'm sure you'll get along well with the locals. They're good people."_

"_Wait, you're gonna just leave me here?"_ I remembered her saying.

_"I was assigned to be your escort, nothing more. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a vacation to—"_

_"Fine,"_ her voice echoed in my head. _"Go back to your stupid little convention. See if I care."_

"_I think I wil—wait, are you crying?"_

"_Shut up!"_ her sobs made her sound even more intimidating. _"Just shut up, okay? It's not like you're the one who doesn't know your way around Thailand."_

"_Miss Patricia…"_

_"Just go back to your big glasses and zitty friends,"_ she sniffled. _"Just see if I care."_

Right. I sighed. My inability to say 'no' to a crying face. Whenever somebody would cry, my guilt would weigh down on me like a pile of bricks. I couldn't stand to see a person in need and a crying face was the ultimate helplessness.

I recalled the previous times when a crying face made me stop and help despite how busy I was. When tears fell down Malon's face due to the drought Lon Lon Ranch was facing, I made sure that everyone and everything on it had enough food. When Princess Ruto bawled by King Zora's side as he lay sick and dying, I did everything in my power to find the medicine. When Zelda wept for the bad reputation her militia had been getting, I gladly signed up for the job.

"Is it safe to come out yet?" I heard from a nearby building.

And now, Patricia.

I groaned. "Yes, it's safe."

I heard the slamming of a door and saw Patricia walking towards me from the reflection of my shield. I prayed right then and there to the golden goddesses that my favour to Patricia wouldn't take nearly as long as with Malon, Ruto, or Zelda.

"Seriously, they came right the f—" she said, "out of nowhere."

"That's what happens when you attack a Cucco," I responded.

"I didn't attack it, it tripped me," Patricia crossed her arms. "It was, like, totally not my fault."

That was another strange thing about her. She had this tendency to overuse the words 'like' and 'totally' and used several different words I had never heard before. Especially when she got angry. I recalled various words she used often: fawk, pitch, schmit, dannit, and hal. I've found, though, that it was generally better just to ignore her when she started speaking this foreign language. Maybe it was of this elusive 'Thailandese' she kept mentioning.

"You know what?" Patricia asked.

I decided to humour her. "What?"

"I've been thinking," Patricia began. "And, not, like, hardcore thinking like you geeks do, but the healthy amount."

"And?" I put my shield on my back again.

"I, like, don't think this is Thailand," Patricia said. "Like, last time I checked, Thailandesers aren't magical."

I wasn't really listening. "Uh-huh."

"Also, everybody's speaking English, but they keep telling me it's not," Patricia crossed her arms. "Seriously weird."

"Yup."

"And not to mention that, like, everybody has pointy ears," Patricia continued. "And not like those pointy ears you see on random old guys, but like really long and pointy ears."

"You don't say?"

"I know, right?" Patricia let out. "It's like something out of one of those kiddie fairy tales. It's totally unrea—"

I stood up. I turned and saw Patricia with her hand over her mouth. Normally I would have expressed some concern, but Patricia made this face a lot.

"Oh. My. Gosh," she quivered. "This world isn't real! I knew there was a reason you guys were all freaks."

"Yeah, sure," I turned around. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to return the rag and the oil to the guy at the Bazaar. I still have trouble remembering his name."

I put the rag on the edge of the tub and walked off with it.

"No! You, like, don't understand! This is serious sh—" Patricia's voice came from behind my shoulder, "we're talking about."

Great, she was following me.

"Like, don't you think it's weird how, like, you live in a world that only exists in books and crap?" this was just getting annoying. "I would, like, totally think it's weird!"

"That's nice," I sighed.

"Just listen to me for a sec!" she huffed.

I turned around. "You do realize what you're asking me to believe, right?"

"Shut up and listen to me!" Patricia grabbed my shoulders. "This world…_your_ world…is fake! You're whole life has, like, been a lie up until now!"

I was not impressed. "Fake? _Fake?_"

I put the tub aside. I grabbed Patricia's shirt and made her bend down to the ground. With my other hand I picked up some dirt and shoved it in her face.

"Mmmrrphh!" were Patricia's desperate squeaks.

"Tell me, does that _feel _real to you?" I asked.

Patricia pawed at her face while using some of those strange words again.

"Y-Yes!" she finally spluttered.

"So," I began, "you're trying to tell me that the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the earth we stand on, right now, is all fake?"

"Well, uh, yes!" Patricia huffed defiantly.

I gave her a sarcastic grin. "I'm sorry, Miss Patricia, but it's going to take a lot more than your word to convince me that 'my life is a lie', as you put it."

I picked up the tub and walked off again, while Patricia stood in silence. I knew she had a few Keese in her belfry, but that was the most absurd thing she had said yet. Hyrule—fictional, _honestly._

Even as I got farther away, I could still feel her glaring at me. I rolled my eyes. She'd get over it. She always did.

I heard a loud spark. I turned. A nearby crate caught fire. Din, not another one.

"Fire!" I yelled. "Somebody get some water!"

I dropped the tub and ran up the stairs. Anju came running with a bucket of water.

"How big is it?" she asked as she handed the bucket to me.

"Now, not very, but get a second bucket ready just in case," I told her.

"Right," she nodded back at me.

Anju didn't waste any time to head back to the well. Neither did I. I ran down the stairs and tossed the water over the open flames. The fire went out with a loud fizzle. I stared at the burnt crate. I got most of it, but there were still a few embers that could catch if left untreated.

That was the other strange thing that had happened a lot recently. Small fires started appearing at unpredictable moments. At first the other villagers thought a local arsonist had moved in. But as the fires continued they happened near completely different people at random times of day.

Kakariko was not a town that had frequent fires. At least, not until lately. The only other time I had seen Kakariko on fire was when Ganondorf attacked after I pulled the Master Sword.

Maybe that was it. I put a hand to my chin. Maybe there was a fire monster that had come down from Death Mountain and set up camp somewhere in the village?

"Did you get it all?" Anju called from above.

"Oh, um, yeah, it did," I yelled back. "But bring the other bucket so we can keep it from starting again."

Anju trotted down the stairs. Either way, the fires were becoming increasingly frequent. I frowned. Sooner or later, someone was going to get hurt.

Anju splashed the second bucket over the embers. "There, that should take care of that."

"Hmm," was all I responded.

"Well, it's a good thing you were close by when it happened," Anju nodded. "What would we do without you, Link?"

"Thanks for being ready with the buckets, Anju," I smiled at her.

I saw Patricia out of the corner of my eye. She was walking over.

"You know, you spilled that oil stuff all over, over there," she called out. "It's kinda gross to step in."

"Not at all," Anju smiled. "I'm just glad that I was fetching water at the time it started."

"When what started?" Patricia asked.

"The fire," I responded.

"There was a fire?" Patricia asked.

"Didn't you hear me call out 'fire'?" I blinked.

"I was too busy getting dirt out of my eye," Patricia glared at me. "Thanks to _someone_ around here."

"Either way," Anju smiled, "it would have been disastrous if Link wasn't nearby."

For a split second, I could have sworn I saw Patricia grin to herself.

"Disastrous?" Patricia asked. "Like, people could have died?"

"That very well could have been the case," Anju said. "But, thanks to young Link here—"

Patricia put her hand to her forehead. "_Ohh!_ I think I'm, like, gonna faint."

Patricia fell over in the least painful looking way possible. Anju and I leaned over her and stared.

"…Um…" I paused.

"That looked almost…" Anju paused, "…rehearsed…"

I nudged Patricia with my foot. She recoiled.

"Ahh! What are you _doing?_" she hissed. "Creep!"

I raised an eyebrow. "Checking to see if you were passed out. Which, apparently, you weren't."

Patricia stared at us blankly for a moment.

"Yeah…well…" she huffed. "I-I feel faint again!"

Patricia fainted once more. I looked up at Anju, who looked just as confused as I was.

"Okay then?" I blinked.

I nudged Patricia in the side again. Nothing happened this time. I bent down and poked her ear. She cringed.

"Ewww! What are you doing now?!" she squirmed.

"Checking, again, if you really have fainted," I responded.

Another silence ensued.

"Erm…" Anju paused. "I'm, uh, going to feed the Cuccos."

Anju briskly walked away.

"Could you return the rag and the tub I borrowed from the guy who runs the Bazaar for me?" I called after her.

After I heard a faint 'sure I can', I looked back at Patricia.

Patricia avoided eye contact. "Er… Well, I really mean it this time!"

Patricia fainted a third time. I nudged her with my foot. Nothing. I poked her ear. Nothing.

I stood up. "Well, I suppose since she's already passed out, I might as well finish the job."

I drew my sword.

"EEEEEKKKK!"

Patricia curled up into a defensive position.

I smiled. "Good morning, Miss Patricia."

"Grrr…" Patricia grumbled. "Why can't you just pick me up like a normal gentleman?"

"Why can't you pass out realistically?" I retorted.

She sat up. "Hey, I need to freshen up after a certain dirt incident and I don't feel like walking back for something you did."

"If you want my sympathy—" I put my sword away, "—you're going to need to get on my good side first."

"My dad picks me up whenever I faint," Patricia crossed her arms. "And he's always ruining my life, so that's saying something."

"In case you haven't noticed," I huffed, "I'm not your father. Nor will I ever be."

"That still doesn't mean you can act like a prick," Patricia grumbled.

"Well, _excuuuuse_ me, princess," I said.

I walked past Patricia. I heard her get up, muttering insults under her breath. I rolled my eyes. Just then I saw a flash of light in the tree I was sitting under earlier. I blinked and almost half the tree's leaves were alighted.

"Not again," I groaned. "F-fire! Fire!"

"Sheesh, who keeps starting them?" I heard Patricia's annoyed voice from behind.

"I'm not sure," I began running towards the well. "Nobody is. That's what's so troubling."

"Well, all I know is that it's not me," Patricia sounded like she was running too. "I'd need, like, a lighter or something for that."

We arrived to see Anju and a couple others filling their buckets.

"How big is it this time?" one of the men asked.

"Bigger," I said. "But not out of control. Still, it will take quite a few buckets full if we don't pick up the pace."

With the help I got from the other villagers, it didn't take us long to put the fire out. Thankfully the tree wasn't close to anything else flammable. Some of the men stayed and stamped out the burning leaves that fell off.

After I was sure that they didn't need my assistance anymore, I looked around. No sign of Patricia. I had assumed at the time that she was going to lend us a hand, but I guessed not. Maybe she went back to where she was lodging and took a nap? Perhaps the sporadic fires took a lot out of her.

I looked at the sky. The sun was setting. If I were to check and see how Patricia was doing, I would need to go now. I shuddered at the memory the last time I walked in on her at hours she wasn't expecting. I wiped the sweat from my brow and began my trek.

I soon arrived at Anju's house: where Patricia had taken up short-term residence. The door hung open. I knocked on the wood frame.

"Miss Patricia?" I asked.

"Oh, you again?" I heard from inside. "What do you want?"

"May I come in?" I sighed.

There was a pause.

"Whatever," I heard her scoff. "Just don't stick around too long."

I entered the house and closed the door behind me. In front of me was a small table, with a stove off to the right. In the corner was a mound of hay with a blanket overtop and over by the far wall Patricia lay on the bed, looking at her nails.

"Look, if this is about the whole Thailand thing, then just forget it," Patricia huffed. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Um, right," I paused.

I looked at the mound of hay by the far wall, then at the bed Patricia was on.

"So, you sleep on the bed?" I asked.

"_No,_" she rolled her eyes. "I, like, sleep on the ceiling. Of course I sleep on the bed!"

"That's pretty generous of Anju," I said.

"Uh-huh," Patricia said disinterestedly.

Patricia pulled one of her trinkets out of the shawl around her waist. She opened it up, and started doing strange things with her face while looking at it.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Freshening up, duh," she scoffed. "I may not have the lipstick anymore, but I've still got to look my best in case I need to go out for some reason."

"Oh that's right," I paused. "Your lips were purple the first time I met you, weren't they?"

"I was wearing purple lipstick, yes," she groaned. "Now, will you stop looking at me like that?"

"Sorry," I looked away.

I stared at the fire in the stove. Anju had a pot on. Supper, probably. Wow, I thought, she was even providing meals too?

"Tch," Patricia let out. "Stupid little…!"

"What's wrong?" I looked over.

"Nothing," she grunted. "My make-up's running low, that's all."

"Make-up?" that was the first time Patricia mentioned that.

"Yeah," Patricia sighed. "See, I've been using this compact for a few months already. I like it 'cause it has a little thing on the side where you can keep your mascara. But if I knew I was going to Thailand indefinitely, I would have bought a new one."

"Oh, the world's real now?" I asked.

"Maybe," she grumbled.

"Well, I'm glad you've come to your senses," I chuckled. "If you had gone on much longer then I might have had to get you locked up again."

"Oh, please, you, like, wouldn't have the guts to throw me back in jail," she crossed her arms.

I raised an eyebrow. "And why do you say that?"

"'Cause I found your weak spot," she said.

"Weak spot?" I blinked.

"Uh, _yeah_," she laughed mockingly. "You couldn't lock me away even if you tried."

"Excuse me?" I let out.

"I can't believe how well it worked the first time," Patricia added. "I know you had nothing better to do, but it's been over a week already."

"You…you lost me," I paused.

"Here, let me show you," she chuckled.

In no time at all, black tears rushed down Patricia's cheeks. Her eyes became puffy and she started sniffling.

I squinted. "You cry ink?"

"Crap," Patricia let out. "I forgot I was wearing mascara."

Patricia stood up, grabbed the blanket on the hay, and wiped her face on it. After she was done, she put it back down. I looked at her face—it was normal.

"Aw, man," she groaned. "Now I'm going to have to reapply the blush again."

"You can cry…at will?" I paused.

"Yup, even as a kid," Patricia scoffed. "You're just like my parents. Dolls, princess dresses, jewelry, designer threads. Just let a tear drop and sound kinda sad, then you can get whatever you want."

I couldn't believe her! My hand clenched into a fist. All this time, all the sobbing and whimpering she did was just a ploy to make me stay? Was just a trick to make Anju feel sorry for her? It took everything I had to keep myself from socking her across the face.

"…You…you wench!" I stared at her in disbelief.

"You're so immature!" Patricia chuckled to herself. "Like, seriously, who calls someone else a _wrench?_"

"I'm sorry," Link scoffed. "Who's the immature one around here?"

"_Excuse_ me!?" Patricia let out.

"It's just that…" I groaned. "Never mind. I just wanted to check to see if you were okay after the fire earlier. And I see you are."

"N-No!" Patricia scoffed. "No, I am _not _okay! You really piss me off, you know that?! Now come back here and say I'm immature to my face! I dare you!"

I turned towards the door. "I don't have to hear this. I don't have to be here, I don't have to put up with any of this."

"Don't you turn your back on me!" she snapped. "I'm not finished here!"

"Good night, Miss Patricia," I said. "And if anyone asks, I'll be heading off to Lon Lon Ranch."

"I'm not finished here!" her voice

As I reached for the doorknob, I heard several crackling noises behind me. Must be the stove.

"YOU WILL NOT TURN YOUR BACK ON ME!" Patricia shrieked.

A sharp 'zap' filled the air. I snapped my head around. The wooden ceiling frames alighted with a resounding 'fwoosh'. I knitted my brow. It was the biggest fire yet.

"Eeek! Like, what the freaking h—" there was one of those words again, "is up with all of these fires?!"

I scanned the room. Patricia. I needed to get her out of the building. Fast. I looked up at the blazing ceiling frame. They wouldn't hold forever.

I dashed over to the other side of the house. "I don't know and getting burned alive won't help solve the matters."

I got over to Patricia just as she stood up. I grabbed her hand. She pulled it back.

"Don't touch me!" she snarled.

"We have to go," I told her sternly.

"'Kay, just a sec, I dropped my powder brush—" she sighed.

"Now," I growled.

I clenched my hand around her wrist and I sped off towards the door. By now I heard various callings of 'Fire! Fire!' from outside.

"Dweeb! Geek!" Patricia squirmed. "Nerd! I hope you realize that it's, like, gonna take even longer for me to get it now! You just wasted, like, so much time!"

Patricia spun around. My grasp must have slipped for a second for she yanked her wrist free. I saw a distinct smirk on her face before she turned away. A burning plank from the ceiling crashed down inches from her face. Patricia jumped horribly.

"This is not the time!" I let out. "Come on!"

"…R-r-right," Patricia gulped.

I ran out of the house, with Patricia following shortly after. I turned around. The whole roof was ablaze and was the only thing illuminating the night sky. Several of the other villagers had already clambered up onto nearby roofs and were tossing buckets of water being passed up to them.

Anger got the better of me, though. I turned to Patricia.

"You could have died in there!" I snapped. "We both could have died in there!"

She said nothing.

"That burning plank could have fallen on us if we had waited any longer than we did," I said. "And for what? A little brush? Doesn't that bother you at all?!"

"J-just shut up!" Patricia snarled. "I don't need this right now!"

I stared at Patricia. She looked quite shaken up. Right, I thought, she was probably in shock.

"Look, just stay here," I told her. "Everything's gonna be okay."

I motioned to her to sit against a nearby brick wall of a house. She complied, though she said nothing. She quivered quite badly. Well, it was evening, after all. Maybe she was legitimately cold.

I sighed. "Here, this should help."

I reached down to her side and untied the knot in her shawl. With a couple shuffles of assistance, I wrapped the shawl around her arms and shoulders. I couldn't help but smile. It really did look better on her when she wore it properly.

"There," I said. "Now, don't get into trouble, okay?"

With a silent nod out of Patricia, I stood up.

I ran towards the well. Several men and women were standing there, filling up buckets and distributing them to carriers back and forth. Anju was among them.

"How bad is it?" she sounded uneasy.

"The worst yet," I looked away. "It'll probably take the entire town to get this one under control. What I'm concerned about is if whether or not there are enough buckets to go around."

"I c-certainly hope so," a tear trickled down Anju's cheek.

"Look, you're doing a good job," I grabbed her shoulders. "I know that this is your house, and maybe we can arrange something with Impa, but right now we need to stay focused."

"I…I know," Anju nodded with a forced smile.

"Good," I nodded back.

I grabbed two of the nearest buckets available and rushed to the edge of the well. There had already been quite a bit of water taken out, so it was harder to reach.

Bending over, I managed to fill both buckets. I stared at my reflection. I hadn't drained the well in this reality. I pondered if all of _that_ was still down there.

"Fire!" I heard a man call out. "Fire! We'll need every hand we can get! Everyone, fire!"

Fire, right. I ran over with a bucket in each hand. By now the flames had crept down the walls to where I could reach. I tossed one bucket's water over the lower flames then passed the other to a guy passing buckets up to the people on a roof.

As I ran past again, I caught a glimpse of Patricia. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at the fire before her, clutching her shawl like a blanket. Frail. Helpless.

I shook my head. I couldn't focus my attention on her. And besides, it could have just been an act like earlier. It wouldn't surprise me.

I swallowed in to moisten my dry throat. I still couldn't believe she would cry just to get me to stay. I wanted to leave, but now I had little choice. Patricia was a bit crazed, yes, but she wasn't stupid. She wouldn't have told me of her ability to cry at will if she wanted me to stay. She wanted me gone; I realized. Whether for her own selfish reasons or not.

I couldn't leave Kakariko. Not now. I had to know what was causing these fires. Someone would get hurt. Someone almost got hurt earlier today.

Even if it took the remainder of my vacation, I would find the source of the fires. And if need be, send a letter of explanation to Queen Zelda.

I swore right there that I would not turn my back on these people.

* * *

A/N: _Wellll_, that was…dramatic. Oh well. Um... Why is it that I have nothing to say at the end of my chapters? Anyway, I hope Link's POV proved to be more endurable than Patricia's. Please review and tell me your thoughts. :)


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